


advancements in on-the-job training

by iniquiticity



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Forehead Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, Local Author Knows Nothing About Biochemistry - Writes About It Anyway, Nightmares, Other, POV Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Semicolon Misuse, Struggles in Learning to Communicate with Your Partner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 08:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iniquiticity/pseuds/iniquiticity
Summary: Taking care of their host is more complicated than they anticipated.Or:There were lessons it had been that taught about how to manipulate a host's biochemistry. By making changes there, the lecturers explained, problems the host experienced could be eliminated, allowing the symbiote to pursue it's goals with with less resistance.They were abysmal at the lessons, and, more importantly, those lessons were forit, notthem.  Everything before them is worthless. They'll have to figure it out as they go along.





	advancements in on-the-job training

**Author's Note:**

> this story follows movie canon, so characters are named based on movie canon (i.e. venom calls themself venom). i made up the pre-movie klyntar antics. 
> 
> _**Bold italics**_ is for venom talking inside eddie's head, and **bold** is for when they're using a real mouth.
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [iniquiticity](http://iniquiticity.tumblr.com), or on twitter at [@picklesnake](https://twitter.com/picklesnake).

 

****

Other than Eddie’s investigations, the next most important thing to Venom is becoming an expert in Edide’s neurochemical processes. As all symbiotes know, this is the key to understanding your host’s needs, so that they can be resolved in ways that are beneficial to the cause.

The cause now being Eddie’s investigations, and perhaps that is not quite what was intended, but they’ve never been all that great at other missions anyway.

What they have learned is the human brain is an incredibly dumb organ, or maybe humans just fail to use it in the most efficient manner. Of course they knew some of how this body works instantly upon the bond, but there is so much more. The nature of a human host is very complex. Even if he could immediately make Eddie hungry and use his form to move around, there is so much more. Now there is time, at least. Time to watch and study and learn.

They have never been very good at learning; certainly Riot thought they weren’t any good at anything. They performed inadequately, to say the least, at the lessons. They were put on this mission partially because of their inadequacy, they suspect. But Riot is gone and their teachers are gone and now it’s just them and Eddie, and they are going to learn how to be good _we_ to Eddie. They are going to be a _good person_ , like Eddie wants.

So they watch synapses fire and nerves connect and chemicals process and transfer; they learn exactly how each nutrient generates into which protein and how the carbon chains are formed and how the different sugars are needed in different places. Perhaps there were studies of this before they left; they were never interested then. Eddie’s brain electrochemistry, on the other hand, is captivating. Sometimes they watch the synapses fire and predict the words before Eddie says them.

“Turn the light off?” Eddie mumbles. The process is complicated and spectacular and it results in the grumbled request, of which they oblige, flicking a tendril out and hitting the light switch.

Eddie doesn’t vocalize his gratefulness but they feel it, the input of molecules and the output of complicated feelings. Contentedness, and more when Eddie reaches for them, and they form. Eddie’s fingers rubbing over them, as if they could be scratched. This thing is called _comfort_ ; Eddie does it to them when he’s relaxed and just wants to feel them there. They asked the purpose of it once.

Eddie had said: “There’s no purpose; I just think it’s cool. I like.. knowing you’re there. Do you like it?”

They had responded that they did not understand that it did not have a purpose. They did not even understand what it meant to _like it_.

Eddie had broadcasted confusion, and then he had said: “Just tell me if you don’t like it.”

They hadn’t said that.

They still are not quite sure how to interpret that interaction. Their host - their Eddie - wants them there. Wants to feel them there, wants to touch them. Even more ridiculous because they are more closely linked than touch. Yet, they still do not say they don’t like it.

They think about that moment, occasionally. Like right now, when they’re laying in bed, half-covering Eddie in a lazy materialization.

“Night, V,” Eddie says. It is dark; Eddie’s brain has many specific connections which indicate he is tired. He is producing melatonin, among other things.

 _ **GOOD NIGHT, EDDIE**_. Eddie likes it when they say good night.

Sleeping is strange and ridiculous. It is a good thing humans have spent so much time building dwellings so they can be unconscious safely. Venom, of course, would protect Eddie, but that is new. It’s good that Eddie has been becoming unconscious safely for the years they where not here.

They watch and feel some connections slow and stop, and others build up. Some connections are only active when Eddie sleeps; it is very important that Eddie sleeps. They know what cellular and neurochemical repair feels like, and Eddie is abuzz with them when he is asleep. There is also _dreaming_. Dreaming is a thing Venom is unfamiliar with before Eddie; they (although Venom was an _it_ then, before Eddie made them a _they_ ) never paid enough attention to a human host long enough to notice dreaming. There is a lot of brain activity during dreaming, though it is a lot less sensible than a lot of other activity.

Often there are physical responses to dreams. Eddie’s heart rate will rise; his body will release cortisol and other related hormones; he will wake in distress, reaching out for them. Venom forms most of them because Eddie wants to see them. Sometimes they have everything but legs.

Eddie is always deeply relieved to see them, at that moment. Eddie sighs heavily and leans forward and touches them and pulls them closer. The first time they were confused at all of this; they had to see what Eddie wanted them to do in his mind.

What they learn is that Eddie wants to be _held_ , so they take his face in their hands and make him look them in the eye, and lick him. Sometimes they will put their hands on his shoulders and just wrap him in their substance. Sometimes when Eddie is particularly distressed he will just throw his arms around them and dig his fingers into their back and hold them tight.

Eddie calls these nightmares. They are bad things having happened to Eddie, that his brain is replaying, because human brains are insensible.

Sometimes Eddie will go, “V?” or “Hey, darling?”

Sometimes he will skip directly to “Still there?”

 **“ALWAYS, EDDIE,”** they say, with their mouth, because that's what Eddie wants now.

This happens a lot of nights, after they save Earth from Riot. Not only it is distressing to Eddie, but it also interrupts his biocelluar healing and many other important things that need to occur to keep Eddie’s body in peak condition. So there are two reasons to find a solution to "nightmares": the first, of course, is to have a powerful host. But the second seems stranger, in some way. They do not like that Eddie wakes. The first time Venom disrupts those connections Eddie wakes up and screams with all the intense power of his lung function, and is only saved from falling out of the bed by them catching him.

Eddie is _more_ distressed now, coughing and thumping his chest and gasping for breath. Of course, the solution given in the lessons fails, because they’ve never successfully completed a lesson in their life.

“What the hell, V?” he gasps out.

 **”THE NIGHTMARE WAS UPSETTING YOU,”** they say, forming out of his chest,

Eddie takes two big gulps of air and sits up, trembling. He doesn’t make it without their assistance.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, and Venom hears his heart rate slow, “Don’t fuck with my brain chemistry when I’m sleeping, even if I’m having a nightmare. That’s creepy and bad. It’s great that I have you, I think - but … don’t mess with my brain, OK?”

 **”YOU WERE SUFFERING, SO WE ASSISTED,”** they say, even though this is obvious.

“I know you’re doing the best you can, okay?” Eddie says, and he’s still taking deep breaths, rubbing his face and staring up at the ceiling. “But don’t. Just let me scream myself awake. I know that sounds ridiculous to you, but. I’m saying it. Ok?”

Venom can feel his disapproval. There were no lessons or skills on what to do, when your host is distressed. What to do when you - we - have distressed your - our - host. They’re floundering. They cannot look so weak for Eddie, who they need to protect.

They slink back into his skin. **_WE ARE HELPING YOU, LOSER,_** they say, inside him. **_IT’S NOT OUR FAULT YOU’RE BAD AT BEING HELPED._**

Eddie doesn’t respond, but he’s frustrated, and he huffs a noise into his hands before flopping back into the bed. He grabs the blanket and yanks it over his face, as if he can hide from them.

 ** _WE’RE STILL HERE,_** they said, **_MORON._**

“Shut up,” Eddie says, into the blanket.

****

 

Eddie isn’t angry at them when he wakes up - normally this time. Venom tracks his REM cycles, watches the sleep processes slow and the awake processes quicken. They see muscles begin to activate, feels his body temperature rise. There is no denying their delight at Eddie’s consciousness; he is their host. They are their host. _They_ are Venom.

“Good morning,” Eddie mumbles into the air, and vaguely swats the air with his hand. Venom forms there, feels Eddie’s fingers run through their substance. Being touched should not be pleasing and it is; they think, suddenly, of Riot and it’s viciousness, and how it might feel about that touch, and the enjoyment ---

“You have bad dreams too?” Eddie says to them, letting his hand drop as he walks into the bathroom. For a second they are puzzled by the question, but then they realize Eddie is detecting their thoughts about Riot. Eddie can’t yet read them like they can read him.

They hope he will soon. They can bring it up later.

 ** _DREAMING IS STUPID_** , they say. A beat. ** _GOOD MORNING_** , they add, because Eddie likes to be told good morning.

Eddie rolls his eyes. He flicks the bathroom light on and puts toothpaste on his toothbrush. “Yeah, well,” he says to the bathroom mirror, “Not all of us are lucky enough to be slime monsters,” he says. Human teeth. Calcium phosphate, mostly. The outer layer can be eaten into by starches and bacteria. Of course, they would never let such a thing happen, and they told him so. Eddie does it anyway.

 ** _HOW ARE HUMANS NOT EXTINCT WHEN THEY LAY PRONE FOR EIGHT HOURS? DON’T YOU HAVE PREDATORS?_** Venom asks.

Eddie shrugs. He spits in the sink, then turns on the water hotter. “Good houses, I guess,” he says, “Or maybe like, you know, when some people are sleeping, other people are making sure they’re not being eaten by tigers or something.”

**_IF YOU HAVEN’T SLEPT, WILL YOU JUST FALL ASLEEP DOING WHATEVER DUMB THING IT IS YOU’RE DOING?_ **

“I’ve fallen asleep at my desk before.”

**_STUPID._ **

Eddie draws the cream and blade across his facial hair. Shaving.

 ** _HUNGRY,_** they say. Eddie seems to think that their hunger can be ignored. They don’t like to think of what could happen. They will do a lot, to make sure they don’t start looking at Eddie’s organs and noticing how warm, wet and raw they are.

Eddie concentrates on shaving instead of responding to them. Eddie washes his face and turns the shower even though they keep his body at optimum condition just fine. They’ve taken stock of Eddie’s typical bacteria and have decided most of them are no threat to them. They removed the _h. Pylori._ There are a lot of bacteria associated with your typical human, they’ve noticed. Perhaps it primes them for being hosts otherwise.

“You’re quiet this morning,” Eddie says, scrubbing himself.

 ** _HUNGRY, EDDIE,_** they say, again.

“We bought a shitton of meat at the store.”

Right. They spent some of yesterday looking at the various dead meats and deciding which was the least revolting. Eddie seems very confident that there won’t be that much live meat and they’ll have to become accustomed to something dead.

**_YOU DON’T HAVE TO CHOOSE BETWEEN TWO MAGGOT CORPSES._ **

“I'm sure there are some scumbags at the other end of this case, but we can’t push it,” Eddie says. The idea of them eating live meat is repulsive to Eddie, very deep at the core of his being. There are a lot of nerves firing when he thinks about it; Venom isn’t sure how one’s perfect host can be so against one’s perfect food. There other foods Eddie likes enough that are adequate, but none is the same as warm meat. “But I don’t know, man, I don’t … The eating people thing freaks me out, you know?”

 ** _BECAUSE YOU’RE A PUSSY,_** they say. Eddie snorts, gets out of the shower, and wraps himself in a towel. He goes over to the refrigerator.

“So what do you want?” Eddie asks. They study the various bags of cold meat. They press through Eddie’s skin and Eddie gives his skin to them; they grab each bag and smell it.

“Probably tastes better outside the plastic,” Eddie says to them, evidently trying his best not to be revolted.

They tear it open and gulp it down. Dead and cold and partially inedible but they feel just a little less ravenous. They tear open the second-least inedible one and gulps that down too. They slide back in after; Eddie makes himself breakfast, cooking his dead meat, which is even worse. Eddie tries to be less revolted for them, though, so they put forth a similar effort. “You know,” he says, eating his gross cooked meat, “I bet we could find some chickens in Chinatown - we've got some follow-up there. That’s alive, at least.”

 ** _YES,_** they say.

Eddie is working on a case about people being stolen. They do not quite understand, but it’s what Eddie wants, so it’s what they want - especially if there could be a meal at the end.

They do pick up a living chicken in Chinatown, and even this tiny thing is delicious, crunching bones and blood and marrow. A beating heart.

Eddie sits at their desk in their apartment and types away and makes stories and posts to their website. They offer helpful commentary, and they watch the different connections and synapses fire. Like every night. Eddie will sleep soon, and maybe he will have the nightmare.

Yes, Eddie said they could not interrupt their brain chemistry but there must be a way to make the thing less unpleasant. They will make Eddie’s sleep untroubled and give his REM cycles a more reasonable rhythm. Eddie bought a chicken for them from a strange woman, after all.

They are not much of a scientist, for sure. They have never been good at much of anything, but they will become good at taking care of Eddie. For a few nights they study, track the synapses, and in the middle of the night Eddie’s sleep is disrupted and he wakes, startled, reaching out for them. They’re there, or course. Eddie needs them, so they’re there.

One day Eddie bolts up and Venom is there, forming hands for him to hold and a torso for him to lean against. Eddie goes, “Still there?”

Venom goes, **”ALWAYS, EDDIE.”**

They make a plan. A good plan, as far as they’re concerned. Their terrible plan to stop Riot worked, and that was the worst plan they could imagine. So this good plan, which they’ve thought about and researched - it will have to work.

That night Eddie goes to sleep and Venom sinks deep into the crevices of his brain, finds every nook and cranny that they can press themself into. It is not only a matter of seeing and knowing those neural connections. They need to be inside them, need to feel the electricity of it. They press harder, spreading thinner, trying to get inside --

Eddie’s brain is gone and his apartment is gone and they are at the Life Foundation facility, with the rocket taking off, with Riot still alive and using the bad person called Drake, and they have decided they need to fight it no matter what, even if they die.

They are both being crushed by Riot and watching themselves be crushed. They are both being beaten into a pulp and watching themselves being beat into a pulp. It’s a good thing they didn’t know how thoroughly they were being wrecked, even if they felt it. Then the dream, because it is a dream and not reality, does something strange.

Eddie’s dream focuses in some impossible way on the moment where Riot grabbed them - them as it. Riot separated them. Riot tore _it_ away from _him_. Riot ripped them apart and almost ate it. They remember that moment of chaos and panic and helplessness. The horrifying blind and deafness off it, of being reduced back to your base senses. It - they - could no longer see like Eddie, or feel like him. It - they - had reverted in the host requiring mode. It - they - began to suffocate at that very moment, gasping without a mouth, dissolving.

Only the dream does not give them any of those feelings. The dream’s terror is Eddie’s brain going _VENOM! VENOM!_ and reaching, desperately, for them-as-it. The dream makes them cold and alone and weak. The dream is that moment, before Eddie reached back up and took them back, and they were thankfully a they again.

The dream is Eddie, having been thrown back into the platform. The dream is Eddie staring up at Riot about to eat them-as-it, and every thought in his brain going

 

alone alone alone ALONE ALONE

and

empty empty empty EMPTY EMPTY

and it does all of this with an impossible silence, so desolate and that it is certainly worse than any silence created by reality.

So it is that single moment of solitude - _that_ is what Eddie fears. Being alone - being split - is what disrupts his sleep and wakes him, startled, in the middle of the night. The thought that they could be split from him is what makes him desperate to hear them say _**we are here.**_

Of course he knows that Eddie likes them, and cares about them, but that _this_ is the moment that distresses him this intently, not the moment that he died, or falling into the San Francisco bay --

Then Eddie is awake again, reaching for them, and they are there, embracing him.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, resting his face against Venom’s substance, and they can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

 **“WE ARE HERE, EDDIE,”** they say, **“WE WILL NEVER ALLOW OURSELVES TO BE TAKEN. WE ARE US.”** They wrap an arm around him. They have seen this, in his mind, that this is comforting. Eddie is breathing quick but trying to slow, his arms wrapped around Venom’s torso. It’s not quite a hug (it took some time to learn what a hug is, exactly), but it is close.

 **“EDDIE,”** they say, more to the top of Eddie’s head, **“WE ARE HERE.”**

Eddie doesn’t talk for a while. Venom can still feel the moment of the dream rattling across the folds of his brain. Slowly all those chemical alarms get reset, and Eddie’s heart rate settles back to something resting.

Venom shifts back, sliding around and through Eddie’s arms. They’re about sitting in Eddie’s lap now, more or less. Eddie is looking at spot where Venom slides out of him, at the base of his stomach. Eddie’s fingers touch where they’re joined; Venom can feel him thinking about how they were split.

Venom takes Eddie’s face in his hand and tilts his head up. So vulnerable, Venom thinks. This pile of organs and chemicals - all that makes up the substance of their perfect host. And yet Eddie has show himself capable in ways they would not have imagined, had they not seen them upfront. And yet Eddie is such a perfect host, a match for him in the way no other being - and they have had other beings, and plenty of them - has ever been. Venom smelled the match from inside that glass prison in whatever host they had been given and has never been disappointed for a moment.

 **“EDDIE,"** they say, **“WE WILL NEVER ALLOW OURSELVES TO BE TAKEN. WE WILL NEVER BE SPLIT. IT IS A GUARANTEE.”**

Something in Eddie’s gazes sharpens. Their Eddie has - can - does - will - endure. Eddie was more than willing to fight with them against Riot even though they knew - they both knew - how helpless the fight would be. No host ever had that. No host was ever their Eddie Brock.

“Promise?” Eddie says, and he reaches up, touches the backs of their hands where they’re holding his face, “Cause I’ll be pissed if you’re lying to me.”

 **“WE WOULDN’T SAY IT IF WE DIDN’T PROMISE,”** they say. Eddie smiles a little, and Venom tracks the release of dopamine. Better. They could not protect them at that one moment that Eddie relives, but they can protect him at every other moment, and if what Eddie needs to be protected is to be promised audibly, because humans for all their abilities are incredibly ridiculous, than they are capable of that.

Eddie presses his lips to their forehead for a moment, and then he flops back into the bed, sighing as they melt back into him. They can still feel the cortisol - vestiges of terror - if they try. Eddie was explicit about brain chemistry, though.

“V?” Eddie asks.

**_WHAT?_ **

“I promise too,” Eddie lifts a hand and flexes his fist; Venom layers themself there, giving Eddie claws. “You’re stuck with me, and I’ll fight anyone who gets between us.”

It’s a strange relief to hear Eddie say it. Obviously they are are them, and together; obviously Eddie likes keeping them around; obviously they are not going anywhere.

And yet. Something unfamiliar percolates in Venom’s substance that they’re not sure how to acknowledge. They’re oddly grateful Eddie has not yet developed the insight into them that they have into him.

 ** _THAT’S A RELIEF,_** they reply, **_YOU’RE ALWAYS SO CAPABLE._**

Eddie snorts, rolls over, and reaches for his blankets. Venom finds them on the floor, lunges from his ribs to scoop the cotton and synthetic fibers up and dump it on them. Eddie arranges the blanket even though they don't need blankets, not when it's both of them. Venom can feel the hormones in his brain. Warmth. A surge of affection that Venom isn’t unselfaware enough to know that they treasure, despite themself.

“Good night, sweetheart,” Eddie says, and falls back asleep.

**_GOOD NIGHT, EDDIE._ **

****

For a little while the nightmare is less regular, and then one day Eddie has to go over the bridge to Tiburon for some interview. They keep the bay in view, taking the long way around, bickering about nothing. They’re sitting in traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge, and Eddie looks over at the cleanup of the Life Foundation smoldering ruins. Venom watches his mind wander --

\-- a surge of warmth at that conversation that they had, in that moment --

_\-- he has got shit you have never seen._  
_\-- what does that mean? what are our chances?_  
_\-- pretty much … zero._  
_\-- ah….. fuck it. Let’s go save the planet._

They had been pummeled. They had been pummeled and that was the moment Eddie’s brain hooked on, during the nightmare and now. Eddie’s body starts sending strange signals to itself; his brain chemicals go awry; they both feel and hear him gasp. They watch his brain, trying to understand. Eddie’s brain is -- Venom doesn’t know what Eddie’s brain is doing.

It reminds them of the nightmare.

They feel an instant of the wind blowing on them and hear a single car honk and they snap into control of Eddie’s body, putting them back in the driving lane. They enjoy joyriding, but only when Eddie is acting normal.

**_EDDIE?_ **

Silence.

 ** _EDDIE!_** Louder now, with an unhidden note of panic. This time, Eddie offers a grunt of a response.

“Pull over,” Eddie mutters, so low that Venom feels it more than they hear it.

**_WE’LL MISS THE INTERVIEW._**

Eddie slumps, or would slump, if Venom wasn’t holding him. Venom knows how Eddie gets when they stretch to their full form; instead they’re pressed close, just a black slip over skin. They practiced helmets already and they can do a pretty damn convincing one.

“Promise to follow all the traffic laws?”

Venom can’t drive the motorcycle and investigate why Eddie feels so limp and dull. Eddie loves driving the motorcycle; he loves going to interviews; he loves sunshine days; he loves McDonalds breakfast (which they just ate). And yet nothing about him is good right now.

 ** _YES_** , they say, even though that is not even close to what they actually care about, not with Eddie like this. It's like the nightmare and isn't, all at once. It sets then on edge and it's worse that Eddie is asking him about the stupid laws instead. **_WHAT’S WRONG?_**

“You have to stop at _all_ the stop signs,” Eddie says, instead of answering the important question, “And yellow lights.”

 ** _YES WE WILL OBEY THE TRAFFIC LAWS_**. This is what Eddie cares about, so this is what they'll say. **_WHY DID YOU STOP DRIVING? OF COURSE WE WOULD SAVE YOU BUT THAT WAS STUPID._**

Eddie sighs. That's better, at least, than him freezing up in the middle of the bridge. Eddie being angry at them is so much better than silence.

Silence like that moment Riot ripped them apart, that Eddie hasn't quite let go of.

“Can’t just peek into my brain and find out?”

**_NOT WHILE FOLLOWING TRAFFIC LAWS._ **

Eddie sighs again, longer and deeper. Venom feels the air pressed against his substance, where he's doing his best impression of an extremely cool helmet.

“I don't want to talk about it. Just get us where we're going and maybe after the interview.”

 ** _YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM US,_** they say. Highway driving is easy for them. They can argue with Eddie and go straight. The challenge is not going too fast. Traffic laws are moronic, but they promised.

“Fuck off,” Eddie snaps, angrier now, “I don't want to talk about it, ok? Just drive.”

**_WHY DON'T YOU DRIVE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT? WE'RE ONLY DRIVING BECAUSE YOU HAD A MELTDOWN WHICH IS APPARENTLY A PERFECTLY NORMAL THING AND ABSOLUTELY NOTHING IS WRONG._ **

Instantly they feel Eddie moving under them, more solidly taking control of the bike. They recede, snarling at the back of Eddie's neck. He doesn't want to talk about it? Fine.

“I'm fine, see?” Eddie says, and they can feel the rising heart rate and adrenaline. He stops at a red light to adjust his helmet, which must have shifted as they unfolded from Eddie's face, “So why don't you just creep around in my brain, your favorite thing to do, and I'll actually do the driving. Unless you have more nosy questions prepared.”

 ** _WONDERING WHY YOU STOPPED DRIVING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BRIDGE IS NOT THAT NOSY._** They shoot back, because it's true, and it's easy to track through Eddie's brain just how alarmed he is about the whole thing. He is not _fine_ , and he's being an asshole about the whole thing, which is reflected in his brain and Venom doesn't understand why the synapses are firing like they are. ** _IF YOU WANTED TO BE RECONSTRUCTED FROM ANOTHER ACCIDENT WE COULD AT LEAST THINK OF FUN WAYS TO CRUSH YOUR PUNY BONES._**

“Drop it, V!” Eddie actually shouts into the helmet, with finality, “I'm going to this interview! I have to concentrate on it. Don't make me look like a jackass.”

 ** _YOU ARE A JACKASS,_** they snarl, **_WITH STUPID BRAIN CHEMISTRY._**

Eddie doesn't respond. Venom consoles themself with the feeling of his anger. It's a response enough. They don't need words.

 

****

Eddie thinks San Francisco is beautiful from the Tiburon coast. Eddie is warm and content and satisfied, his notebook tucked in his pocket and his mind slowing. Eddie eases, from the ferocity of when he's working, asking and asking and connecting and connecting. Venom has found that there's little better, maybe crunching down on living flesh, than watching those connections form. Eddie has explained to him drug addiction and Venom thinks they might be addicted to watching Eddie work. Certainly they'd be angry if someone stopped Eddie from working, and maybe do things Eddie wouldn't like, if they were stopped from watching.

But Eddie looking at the buildings and the bay? They like that, too. The simple ease of it. They're reminded of lazy weekends and coffee and idly organizing their record collection. These things do not benefit anyone, really, and they do not forward any of Eddie’s missions, and yet Eddie enjoys them, and since Eddie enjoys them, so do they.

The double cheeseburger (“rare as the FDA lets you”) and chocolate sundae (designed for 3) has probably helped.

“Hey,” Eddie says. Eddie doesn't have to start off like this; he knows Venom can feel his attention. He does it anyway. Dumb host, Venom thinks, but not unkindly.

 ** _WE DID GOOD REPORTING,_** they reply, and feels Eddie's surge of pride at it.

“Good helping with that bit about the inconsistent documentation,” Eddie replies, and Venom doesn't bother not to pretend to be proud back.

**_THANK YOU._ **

There’s a great moment right there, where the sunset is beautiful and Venom just lets Eddie’s contentedness into themself. They had doubts, at first, about what they’d done to Riot. Maybe it had been the wrong decision, to strand themself alone here on this dumb planet with these dumb humans, and Eddie. They’ve had that thought less and less as time goes on. Every time Eddie feels the tiniest spark of joy, they’re more sure they made the right choice. Right now, Venom is sure they’d be pummeled by Riot and set on fire a thousand times for the moment.

They feel the drop in Eddie’s mood, sudden and dark. Unexpected, that it would creep in on this moment. Irritating, that Eddie’s thoughts are suddenly moody, when they were enjoying the simple pleasure of Eddie being satisfied.

**_WHAT._ **

Eddie hesitates for a moment. While working Eddie has so much confidence and focus; he’s in his element. It reminds them of hunting, in some way - the intensity and drive, the pounce, the kill. And then outside of it, Eddie is -- just _is._ Venom is learning that maybe it is okay to just _be_. Strange lesson, when you have always been taught that every moment just being is a wasted moment of weakness.

They wait. Eddie’s mind is all insecurity and flickering confusion and hesitation. Maybe words will provide some clarity to it; Venom could go mad trying to decode him from his brain chemistry alone, which seems insane.

Finally: “You wanna drive home? You have to go the speed limit.”

The bridge. Right. They had let it go, but they do need to go back to the city, and like hell they’re driving all the way up and around through the east bay just to avoid the moment where they split. They’re together now, but even so Eddie, because he is a dumb ridiculous human who never wants to leave them, can’t forget that moment.

**_WE CAN ALMOST STOP DRIVING FOR YOU AND PUT US BACK TOGETHER IF YOU’D PREFER._ **

“Forget I asked,” Eddie snaps.There's a pause where Venom feels a throbbing pulse of something achy and tough.

Too - too something, there. They recede. **_WE WILL DRIVE THE SPEED LIMIT._**

“Promise?”

**_YES._ **

Eddie rubs the bridge of his nose, and glances right, and left. Venom knows that feeling and that glance and materializes from his legs, looking at him. Eddie likes looking at them sometimes; for reasons Venom doesn’t quite understand, Eddie seems to prefer to look at him sometimes, even though they literally share a body and Eddie’s brain.

“Just can't get some of that shit out of my head,” Eddie says, meeting their eyes.

They tilt their head, and then turn towards the bridge. **“MAYBE THERE ARE SOME MORE DUMB TRAFFIC LAWS WE COULD BE FORCED TO REMEMBER INSTEAD. WE SEE THERE IS A TEST.”**

Eddie snorts back a laugh. That’s better. Feels better in Eddie’s brain, too, and Venom turns back to him and gives him a big toothy smile. Then, for no discernible reason, the brightness is gone.

“Do you - symbiotes - we --” Eddie draws his hands over the space where they’re manifested from him, up their torso. Eddie likes to touch them in this way, as if to reassure himself they’re still there. As if they would ever leave. “--get stuck about the bad stuff you’ve been through? I bet you’ve seen some shit. Even.. before Earth.”

 **“WHY?”** Venom asks, because it is strange question, a human question, an Eddie question. Still, Eddie isn’t snapping at him, and something in his voice is inquisitive. Questing and questioning. For all his idiocy, Eddie loves to learn; it’s one of the many things that make him such a powerful host. **“WE HAVE CONQUERED ALL ENEMIES BEFORE US. IF WE ARE TO THINK ABOUT THOSE ENEMIES, IT IS THE STRENGTH WE HAVE FROM THEIR DEFEAT.”**

“Oh, I forgot, You’re perfect and never have anything wrong,” Eddie says. Withdrawing.

Venom does not frown, of course, but there’s something lackluster about the answer, and even more lackluster about how Eddie seems to deflate, slumping on the bench.

They put their claws on his shoulders, because touch always seems to empower him, and he looks up at them. **“WE ARE NOT STRONG WITHOUT A STRONG HOST, A STRONG TEAM. WHEN THAT TEAM IS WEAK, WE SEEK TO STRENGTHEN IT.”**

Eddie touches their hands where they’re on his shoulders. He presses into them, takes the substance into himself. His silence is complex and heavy and frustrating, because they’re almost positive that was the correct thing to say, and yet Eddie is murky and difficult, and nothing about his brain helps.

“Would be stronger if I could get one damn moment out of my brain have it stop ruining my day,” Eddie says. When he runs his hands up Venom’s torso, they slide into him, until they’re just a head and a scrap of neck sliding from the pale, thin veins of his wrist. Eddie clenches his fists and they’re less than that, flashes of black along his forearms and biceps, and then nothing.

**_WE CAN HELP, BUT YOU MADE US PROMISE, ABOUT THE BRAIN CHEMISTRY._ **

Eddie stands. He takes another look at the city and then he sticks his hands in his pocket and walks over to his bike. Motorcycles are a prime human invention, Venom thinks.

“Okay, I take it back, but just take it easy on the brain chemistry, ok? I don’t want to seize out of the bed again. Really, that was intensely not fun.”

**_WE WILL NEVER HARM YOU, EDDIE. WE WILL ALWAYS PROTECT YOU._ **

That’s the right thing to say; Venom feels the surge of it, as Eddie puts the helmet on it. The bike rumbles to life under them. With intentional tentativeness, Venom presses forward, surging through Eddie’s skin. He used to be more hesitant of them taking control - now he cedes as much as Venom surges. They’re not manifested all the way, just a thin layer of slick black, constructed into clothes. They practiced manifesting as clothes for hours one day, until Eddie couldn’t stop laughing about how ridiculous it was.

No teeth, but two big eyes on the helmet. They can make some very, very cool helmets.

**_HOW ABOUT WE FOLLOW ALL THE TRAFFIC LAWS BUT STOP SIGNS._ **

“All of them! Even the stop signs!”

**_CAN WE AT LEAST HIT ONE OR TWO PEDESTRIANS?_ **

“No!”

**_WE BET WE COULD GO A HUNDRED ON THE BRIDGE IF WE TRIED._ **

“We will never eat another scrap of uncooked meat again if you go 100 on the bridge.”

****

There were lessons about controlling your host that they did not pay any attention to. They would have been useful now, for all different reasons than the lessons are given. Riot, of course, was vastly better than them at control. They wonder, idly, what Drake thought about getting the rest of their people here. Did Riot need to make him think it was a good idea? Was he already so completely dillusioned that only a little push was necessary?

So there are investigations. They cannot simply turn off the dream; Eddie clearly did not like that. What they need to do is get inside the dream, and from inside the dream they need to keep their dream versions together, and maybe if they can somehow just completely obliterate dream-Riot, or make dream-them overwhelmingly powerful -- that would be a bonus.

Not that it would help, but Phage was better at subtle solutions. They’ve always been the worst at, ah, what does Eddie call them? Soft skills.

There must be a neurochemical way to interfere just enough, to appear in the dream, as they need to. They experiment. Sometimes the experiments go awry, and Eddie wakes up in a cold sweat and curses at them, and they don’t know how else to say being helped can be unpleasant. Eddie never says anything about the brain chemistry, though.

Eddie can usually be soothed with the promise that they are never leaving, and they will never hurt him. Eddie touches them, runs his fingers over substance Venom materializes for him, takes deep breaths. The panics of post-experiment aren’t much different than the panics of post-nightmare.

And there’s progress, too. They can slip into his dreams easy, now. He doesn’t always dream about Riot. He dreams about Annie, and whatever they did yesterday, and nonsense, and his investigations. There’s something easy and familiar about being Eddie’s dreams, and they don’t deny the satisfaction of seeing all the different versions Eddie’s mind constructs of them.

The Riot dream is the worst one, though, and it always seems to appear at the worst times. When Eddie has been taking bad care of their body, and drinking (their opinions on drinking are negative and lengthy), and hitting walls. When Eddie needs the sleep the most, Riot appears in his subconscious and rips them apart, leaving Eddie to gasp himself awake.

They’re still there though, and they still promise. They have some ideas about how to defeat dream-Riot, just as they defeated real Riot. They just need the dream to come around again..

Tonight they’re tailing some scumbag that they’re pretty sure will eventually be dinner, and he leads them into an alley, spins on his heel, and pulls a gun on them.

Eddie does not look impressed. It’s a far cry from that first moment with those idiots and Eddie putting his hands up, thankfully. All he needed was Venom to be there to protect him, and they’re happy to do so. Eddie actually takes another step closer, doing his best to pretend disinterest. They’re amped up by the possibility of a fight and dinner and display. It never gets old, when Eddie’s enemies realize how woefully outmatched they are.

The man clenches the gun tighter and Venom can smell his confusion and fear and it’s whetting their appetite in the way nothing else does. They’re just under his clothes, eagerly sliding through and over skin. Maybe it’s too dark for this poor fool to see the flashes of white teeth and red tongue blinking in and out of Eddie’s jacket, and they’re just a little sad, that some of the effect is ruined.

“Walk away, Brock,” the man says, and Venom can’t help but laugh at the base of Eddie’s neck. More of them manifests, rippling across Eddie’s legs, giving a black collar to Eddie’s gray hoodie.

“We’re not gonna do that,” Eddie says. They’re under his fingernails, in his fists, aching. Teeth gnash in Eddie’s jacket. Maybe the man notices. They hope he does.

“We?” the man asks, “You and what army?”

“Army?” Eddie echoes, with a laugh, and Venom slips into his throat, **“NO. IT’S JUST US.”**

They flick out a tendril that snaps the gun from the man’s hand and into theirs. They manifest a fist and crush it without thinking, discarding the twisted metal away.

“Jesus,” the man says, and takes a staggered step back.

 **“IT’S WAY TOO LATE FOR THAT,”** they say, and take another step, and they’re all around Eddie now, huge and powerful and melded completely. Oh, it’s incomprehensible to explain in terms of sheer chemistry how good it feels to be completely joined to Eddie like this. Only recently did they even know what hands and feet were, and this is right, this is perfect, this is how they should be. They should have hands and feet and teeth and lolling tongue. They should be wrapped around Eddie like this, clinging to every cell. Eddie’s chemistry flows through them; Eddie is them as much as they are them.

“Fuck!” the man says, and turns, and realizes the dead end.

 **“WRONG AGAIN,”** they say, and then they’re on top of him.

By the time they get home, Eddie’s exhausted, and Venom is more or less carrying him. They don’t mind. They’re surging with the victory and the meal and the fight - the man in the alley had friends that came to check on them while they were eating, and so they ate more, and some of the cronies actually did try to shoot them.

The panic their enemies feel when Venom catches the bullets and discard them like the worthless bits of metal they are -- they adore it.

They slip back into Eddie’s skin when they drop into kitchen through the window, a tendril snaking out and closing it behind them. Eddie stumbles, not expecting the control. They catch them.

**_WE GOT US._ **

“Thanks,” Eddie says, and he shuffles his own feet to the bathroom, taking in his face in the mirror. To other humans, Eddie has many imperfections. These other humans are extremely stupid. “Fuck it. Bed.”

 ** _WE CAN DO IT,_** they say.

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles, and gives himself over. Venom takes them to the bed, discards Eddie’s clothes, clicks the lamp off. They reach out for bits of the blanket and pull it over Eddie, who grabs it under his own power and brings it closer.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Eddie says, and reaches out a hand for them. They’re there, materializing a head. Eddie strokes his hand through their substance, affectionate despite his exhaustion. “Sweet dreams,” he says, and then he leans close and gives them a peck of a kiss on the center of their present forehead.

 **“GOOD NIGHT, EDDIE,”** they say, and they slide around him, easy. Here is their Eddie, safe and protected and worn out, after a victorious battle. Here they all, sated.

Life, as Eddie sometimes says, is good.

****

Venom doesn’t want Eddie to have the dream, but they want to try their investigations and results, so it’s not as bad as the dream usually is.

Easy to see the rocket, to see them, to see Riot.

_\-- he has got shit you have never seen._  
_\-- what does that mean? what are our chances?_  
_\-- pretty much … zero._  
_\-- ah….. fuck it. Let’s go save the planet._

To see Riot form the weapons it’s long been proud of. To see them be pummeled, but they don’t give up, and Venom’s pleased with Eddie all over again at their joined action. Nothing better than acting as one with your perfect host, in the quest of your shared goals, to destroy your enemies.

There. The moment where Riot reaches for them - forces them to become it -

\- they see not only the moment in the dream where Eddie screams and they are it and there is nothing and it is alone, and Eddie is alone, but they see and process and hear and understand and feel the chemical misfires that result in this, and the incorrect pathways of neurons, and the synapses that don’t connect in the way that they should, and the human brain’s attempts to correct it, because while the human brain is wonderful because it is Eddie’s it is also extremely dumb --

\-- a matter of the right changes, reaching out with substance and intention to rewire as little as possible, right where they need --

\---- then Venom-in-the-dream screams, but it’s the scream of a victorious predator, and they meld back together before Riot can complete the tear.

Then there is the matter of stopping the dream from breaking down. That was an issue they failed a lot with, at first, leaving Eddie startling awake.It is like Eddie cannot believe this moment would go any other way. Venom can fix that, now. Venom becomes the pathway, creating new connections where there were none, after they've eliminated the old ones.

It isn’t only about destroying, or maybe it would be, if they were Riot, or if Eddie was not Eddie. Thankfully, they are who they are.

So. There must be growth. New things to replace the old. So instead in the dream Venom grabs Riot by the head and slams him into the ground, and Venom remembers to add the shattering bridge and that the rocket still needs to take off. They forgot, at first, about the small details Eddie’s brain needs.

In the dream they roar, and stomp on Riot, and they have it cry out, too, because they can. They have it look pained, feel pain, make Eddie know that Riot hurts. In the dream they pick Riot up and fling it into the exploding fire of the rocket’s jets. In the dream it is just them, together. Venom keeps their promise. They never do leave.

They reach down and feel Eddie’s heart. Feel the pounding of it slow to something regular and even. Feel the flickering of his eyes under his eyelids become calm. Feel less adrenaline pump through him. Feel, instead, dopamine.

Feel him roll over in the bed, the quirk of a smile on his lip.

****

Eddie wakes slowly. They recognize the slow growth of his consciousness. Different neurons fire and begin to transfer from one connection from another. Well-worn pathways are traveled. They follow the early predecessors to thoughts. They admire the folds of Eddie’s brain and the power contained within. Strange, to be content. Eddie had to explain to them what it meant, at first. It was challenging to understand “settled.”

They know now.

Eddie groans and covers his face with his eyes. Venom slides from him, pulling the shade down a little further.

“Thanks,” Eddie mutters, and rolls over, away from the window.

**_YOU’RE WELCOME._ **

For a little while longer Eddie is still. Not too much longer - they’re pretty sure he’s not falling back asleep. Finally, he pulls himself in and then stretches out long, arms above his head and feet pointed over the end of the bed. Venom sinks deep into him; they feel the delicious ease of the stretch. It just feels good.

Eddie had to explain that to them as well. Things could be positive or negative; they could win or lose; they could be full, or they could be eating, or they could be conquering. Those were not good in the way this was.

“Morning, darling,” Eddie says, his voice rough with a night’s disuse. He reaches out and idly touches Venom where they manifest. They thought - were taught - that ‘good’ and ‘satisfied’ are simply combinations of chemicals and processes that they can modify at will to make a host more pliant, or they can ignore the thoughts entirely and simply use the muscular connections to their benefit.

They are certain that is not the case. Of course they know Eddie’s mind and the electronic signals that his brain does. And yet that is not the same of something easy and calm and content and good about Eddie touching them, relaxed and loose. Even more, they are certain that the touch is better than their own chemical processes. Eddie infected them with this layer of sensation like he infected them with the impossible fondness they have for their admirable host. It is a pleasant infection, if such thing exists.

 ** _GOOD MORNING,_** they say, **_HOW ARE YOU FEELING?_**

Eddie likes morning conversation with them. They want to do what Eddie likes; it feels good, when Eddie is happy.

“Hey,” Eddie says, sitting up and touching his face again, stretching his arms out above him and behind him, and popping his knuckles, “You can see what i dream, right?”

**_YES, AND SOME ARE STUPIDER THAN OTHERS._ **

“Whatever, they’re just dreams,” Eddie responds, and when he looks at the lamp Venom flicks it on, “But. Anyway. So.” Eddie seems to be psyching himself up for something. They’ve learned that they’re supposed to wait for Eddie to actually form the words even though they know what he’s going to say. A pleasant infection. “I have this dream about Riot.”

 ** _THERE IS A POINT YOU’RE WORKING TOWARDS?,_** they say, even though they have a pretty good guess about what this conversation is about. They feel ---

….. nervous.

What if Eddie doesn’t like their interference? Making Eddie happy gives them - “joy” is the word, although it is a strange and alien thing, like “content” and they are still learning to understand it. But making Eddie unhappy is distressing. Some of what they do and say upsets him in a superficial way, of course. It is never their goal, though, to actually make him distressed.

“I guess it just….that moment we split is hard for me.” They’re in the bathroom now. Venom manifests, one hand reaching out to turn the shower on, the rest of him looking over Eddie’s shoulder into the bathroom mirror. Eddie’s looking at himself, and then Venom, and then himself again. “We definitely belong together. That Riot almost … ate you -- without me --”

 **“RIOT IS GONE. NO ONE WILL SEPARATE US,”** Venom says, and he manifests another tendril, reaching to hand him toothpaste for his toothbrush. They step in the shower, Eddie sticking his face under the rushing hot water. Venom recedes. The water isn’t painful, but they don’t enjoy it either.

Finally Eddie takes a deep breath. “You got into my dream and made it so he doesn’t split us.”

**_YOU NOTICED._ **

A beat. Venom flicks nervous patterns over Eddie’s back, away from the spray.

_**DID WE SCREW UP?** _

Eddie’s laugh eases the tension from both of them. A good laugh. A satisfied laugh. They did good, Eddie’s brain says, but what matters is --- “No, you’re amazing. You turned my nightmare into a -- good dream. That’s awesome. So. Thanks.”

Thanks, Eddie says. You’re amazing.

Then Eddie starts laughing again, longer this time. He reaches out and turns the shower off with his own hands, and then he just sits on the edge of the tub.

“You… you’re embarrassed that I think you’re awesome,” he says, very slowly, and Venom growls low at the base of his neck.

**_WE ARE NOT._ **

“You definitely are,” Eddie says, and he’s laughing again “It’s okay to feel good when someone says you’re awesome,” Eddie says, and Venom forms from him. Eddie watches him for a couple of moments. There are so many different things going on in his mind that they can’t read them all. They’re pretty sure they’re all good things, but they’re strange and unfamiliar. Eddie reaches up and puts his hands on their shoulders, looks them in the eye.

How does this feel such a strange way, to be looked at?

“I can feel it,” Eddie says, and shakes his head, in clear disbelief, “This is weird as hell. But. This is what you do. Better than words I guess.” Eddie squeezes their shoulders, and then puts his hands on their face. He closes his eyes and --

Gratitude. That is what the feeling is, what Eddie calls this mix in his head. The gratitude is - intense. Nothing has ever felt this way towards him.

Eddie is happy to have them. Eddie is happy to be them.

 _Thanks,_ Eddie says, inside them.

Maybe it won’t be hard for Eddie to learn to read them, like they can read him.

They slip back into Eddie’s form, feel the power in his muscles, revel in the chemistry of his body. It is marvelous. It is strange, yes, but they decide, then that it is not stupid or insensible. It is beautiful.

It is a strange thing to impress; they do not think the words are quite suitable. They realize then --

Eddie stumbles over his words with good reason. They are so limited, when the thoughts are so complicated. How can they explain, precisely, their admiration? Their dedication, to the solutions of Eddie’s problem, to the growth of their combined being?

They impress it.

Eddie wraps his arms around his body and gives himself a powerful squeeze. They don’t know what it means, at first, then --

He _hugs_ them, and in it they feel the powerful warmth of his affection, so much more than electricity flickering through the muscle of his brain. They press it back with all the energy they can muster.

**_EDDIE._ **

“Yeah?”

They reach out and turn the shower back on.

_**THERE IS A LOT TO DO IN OUR INVESTIGATION. SHOULD WE JUST SIT IN THE SHOWER FOR A FEW MORE HOURS WHILE THE LEADS GO COLD?** _

Eddie laughs and puts himself in the shower spray. He reaches for the soap. “No sir. Justice waits for no man, or man-symbiote team, I guess. The future is bright.”

**_MUCH BETTER THAN THE PAST. THERE IS A LOT TO LEARN. WE’VE NEVER BEEN INTO LESSONS BEFORE._ **

“If you’re having trouble figuring out emotions, we could have feelings flash cards. Be study buddies.”

**_DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THE BREADTH OF OUR KNOWLEDGE!_ **

“I’ll make the flash cards tonight, then.”


End file.
